


The Night of his Death

by VonKellcsiis



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Character Death, Halloween, M/M, Oneshot, Rituals, Translation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-16
Updated: 2019-11-16
Packaged: 2021-02-07 10:48:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21456805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VonKellcsiis/pseuds/VonKellcsiis
Summary: Halloween recalls costumes and candy, trick or treat and having fun with friends. That’s not the case for Berwald, since he lost the love of his life on that same night.
Relationships: Denmark/Sweden (Hetalia)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13
Collections: My Translations





	The Night of his Death

**Author's Note:**

> Original Spanish version by FeliZeppeli  
Translated by: VonKellcsiis  
Betaread by: TheNarcolepticOne (Kirani56)
> 
> Summary:  
Halloween recalls costumes and candy, trick or treat and having fun with friends. That’s not the case for Berwald, since he lost the love of his life on that same night.
> 
> Notes:  
Gift for VonKellcsiis.  
Happy Halloween!
> 
> Here it goes, my contribution to the spookiest night of the year~
> 
> I’d like to dedicate this short story to my fratellino, as a thank gift for this lil’ cute avatar he drew for my AO3 account. And because I really like him too and I know this is his favourite ship! ♡
> 
> I hope you enjoy (and suffer) reading this oneshot as much as he did!

Night of the 31st of October; Halloween night in many western cultures. Children are on the streets looking for candy, knocking door after door while wearing the funniest and spookiest costumes. Teenagers spending hours watching a marathon of horror movies with their friends. A night of fun and games for everyone.

Yet, not so enjoyable for Berwald.

Berwald’s perception of Halloween was changed radically after seeing a blue-eyed face covered in blood; experiencing how his whole world fell apart in a blink of an eye because of stepping on forbidden ground. He had played with Death itself.

* * *

_“You sure ‘bout this?” Berwald asked with a stern yet slightly trembling voice. “I don’t think this’ a good idea…”_

_“Trust me! I _borrowed_ this book from Lukas.” Matthias reassured him. He began to draw runes on the floor using chalk._ _“I don’t think wizardry stuff is so difficult if he can do it himself.” _

* * *

Berwald didn’t need any sort of costume or mask. His own gaze was enough to scare people around him out of his way. With a gray trench coat on that protected him from the cold night, he walked the streets full of furnished houses and laughing children. He kept both of his hands inside his pockets, as if hiding something.

He slowly moved away from civilization into an isolated place only known to him.

* * *

_“Alright! Let’s get started!” Matthias stood up and grabbed the heavy old book with both hands. He turned the pages until he found the spell he deemed of his interest. There was a skull painted on it with what the Dane thought it was red paint. _

_“I’m gonna summon a Familiar.” He laughed out of pure excitement._

_Berwald was still worried, but Matthias’ laugh made him feel warm inside and dispelled all his doubts. He smiled shyly._

_“Alright, cut your palm and let your blood drop inside the circle.” There was a spark of conviction glowing in the Dane’s eyes, and Berwald just couldn’t resist. He grabbed the knife and did as told. It hurt, but he didn’t complain. Blood droplets ran through his hand and stained the chalk drawing._

* * *

Darkness made it difficult for the Swede to see in front of him, but he already knew his way by heart. He entered the woodland area.

The undergrowth made it difficult to access any further, but Berwald didn’t care about the scratches on his clothing or his face from the foliage. There was only one goal roaming his thoughts.

* * *

_The spicky-haired teen started reciting in some unknown old-fashioned language, maybe Latin. They stood in the middle of the cold night, dimly lighted by the shaky flames of some candles. The floor in front of them was stained with the blood from earlier. Berwald felt a shiver down his spine and a sudden terror filled up his guts. He had a bad premonition. Nothing happened._

* * *

He finally arrived at a clearing. The Moon shyly illuminated a dilapidated house. In front of it was a wooden cross and a small mound right by it.

Berwald entered the building.

In the floor of a spacious hall before him, there stood many melted candles all over the place, along with an almost faded chalk drawing with a big dark stain of dried blood. He apathetically stared at that scene, noticing each detail. The destroyed ceiling illuminated into a broken frame on the floor, allowing Berwald to focus on what it only allowed him to see. He ambled about the room for some time. A voice echoed in his head.

_Berwald…_  
  
Berwald...

* * *

_“BERWALD!” That scream made him jump out of his stupor. Matthias was on his knees, with his back bent and writhing and shrieking in pain, as if he were struggling against something invisible. They certainly managed to summon an entity and it appeared as if it were trying to take full control of the body of one of the teens. Berwald felt dizzy with the sight of Matthias fighting the one sided battle. His limbs felt numb and he had no idea how to react. All he could do was stare back without blinking; frozen with his breathing hesitant. Sweat ran down his forehead._

* * *

He left the area after a moment of reflection before slowly making his way outside to the improvised grave. The way he walked made him feel as if he didn’t want to arrive.

On inspection, the plain wooden cross had two letters: M.K.  
  
He stood around the mound and stared long at that resting place. The flowers he put the last anniversary date were already dry and shriveled. He wasn’t carrying any this year, but instead had something else special in mind.

* * *

_“Ber… wald…” He gurgled in a weak voice, with blood flooding his throat and overflowing his mouth. On the floor, he crawled towards the other. Matthias couldn’t fight it anymore. _

_“Ber… wald…” He pointed to the knife they used with a trembling hand. It was a clear signal for what he wanted his friend to do. Berwald shook his head “no”. No, he couldn’t kill him._  
  
But was there any other way to save him?

* * *

Berwald took something out of his trench coat pocket. A fan knife he opened with a clean wrist move. He was standing still, his gaze lost at the nothingness in front of him but thoughtful. Maybe this _was _a good idea.

* * *

_Berwald stabbed him. Before he realized anything, he had already buried the knife in his best friend’s chest. It was a reflex movement, driven by the desire to end his suffering. The Dane smiled. It was bittersweet. _

_Why? He was about to die. Tears overflowed Berwald’s eyes._

_Before exhaling his last breath, Matthias muttered his last words, but Berwald couldn’t hear them, nor he could even focus enough to read his lips. _

_The teen’s gaze clouded as he laid motionless._

* * *

Berwald raised his arm and pulled his sleeve back to reveal his wrist. He ran the blade along the length of his flesh and let the blood drip on the grave at his feet. The drops rhythmically stained the ground.

“I wish…” He spoke out loud for the first time that night. He muttered the rest of his sentence, as if he did not want to hear his own voice. “I wish I knew whatcha’ said. And I regret that I never told you my feelings.”

“_Jeg elsker dig_.” A familiar voice reverberated around him, coming from nowhere. A telepathic trick?

A smile appeared on the Swede’s face for the first time in years. The voice didn’t frighten him at all. In fact, it filled his body with the same warmth the Dane’s laugh made him feel all those years ago; the same emotion he felt while gazing at his blue eyes and being by his side.  
  
Hope overran his body. They would soon be together once and for all.

One drop of blood fell.

Another one followed it.

But then, it stopped. The heavy, pale Scandinavian collapsed over the grave of the love of his life.


End file.
